It’s eye crushingly early in the departure lounge of the Wellington International Airport, which evidently also doubles as a sleep apnea research facility. I’m flying back to Nashville today, and not entirely thrilled at the prospect.

Would that I could hang out indefinitely in variously accented, international hubs of intrigue, and as I’m writing this it occurs to me, hey, why not? Never having had a real job lends itself to head scratching lifestyle choices, and why am I trying something as stupid as getting a new band off the ground anyway? Better to hang out here, herd sheep, and drift into anonymity, right?

Perhaps sadly, that’s not in the cards. Reality’s a subjective thing, and that I’m heading back to it means only that it’s up to me how things take shape. I like that.